Can I Get an Amen? - Canada -
by goctyudicbdkvhb175749674
Summary: Canada was fighting an uphill battle with depression. Prussia, on the other hand, had been dissolved. Despite their polar-opposite personalities - well, to be fair, Prussia toned down his obnoxiousness for Canada's sake - they got along well enough to, at the very least, sing the most ridiculous, absurd duet known to man. Sing it they did, and in front of every other country, too.


The five Allied Powers were in their meeting room, as usual, with England and America arguing over strategy, France rambling about love and sex, China steaming pork buns, and Russia just sitting there and looking terrifying. Same as always. However, something felt off. Things didn't seem quite right, almost as if a dead person sat among them. The room felt haunted, and cold, and as if someone else was supposed to be here. However, no one had said anything about it. Yet.

"Hey, I have a strange feeling about this room."

Creepy music.

It was England who had pointed it out.

Creepy music.

"Yeah, I sense it, too," China agreed.

Creepy music.

"Is there a ghost in here?" France asked.

Creepy music.

"Well, if there is a ghost, I'm gonna beat the holy crap out of it and be the hero!" America exclaimed proudly. He puffed up his chest and balled his hands into fists, because of course he did. Then, he reached for his absurd pile of hamburgers, and nobody understood him for a good five sentences as he chewed.

Creepy music.

.

And then there was Canada.

.

"You guys, I'm here!"

.

Sadly, Canada's voice produced nothing more than a gentle draft.

"Was that the wind?" Russia questioned.

"Aw, man! Dude, I'm getting the creeps in here!" was America's first comprehensible sentence since he had started eating, only to lose the others once again because he'd decided to vigorously slurp a soda instead.

"Has that chair always been there? And why does it seem like there's a ghost in the room?" England turned towards Canada's direction, and Canada hoped with all his might that the British man would see him and not just the chair.

"I mean, I guess so," China shrugged. "Here," he said as he threw a pork bun at England. "Have tasty treat to alleviate the fear of hunger in your stomach!"

"You idiot, hunger is not why I feel scared!" England unnecessarily retorted.

"Look! It's a stuffed bear!" America, for once, was the first person to notice something, and he in turn ran over to Canada's seat after finally putting down his food and drink. He ripped Kumajiro out of Canada's weak hands and swung the stuffy around in his arms. "You think we could genetically modify this little dude into some cool hero mega monster? I mean, like, dude, that'd be so freaking cool! We can use it to defeat the ghost!"

"Please, don't do that to Kumajiro," Canada pleaded, his hands clasped together in a helpless attempt to get America to hear him.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asked.

Canada sighed, defeated.

"I'm Canada," he replied softly, hoping, wishing, praying, that his own pet would remember his name this time.

"Who are you?"

Those words came out of Kumajiro like a continuous clock chime.

"What should we do with little bear?" Russia inquired. He looked at America, and between them sat tension you could cut with a knife. Russia pulled a pick-axe out of seemingly nowhere, causing for Canada to scream. No one heard it, though, because Canada's scream barely managed to generate the weakest of breezes.

"There's that wind again," Russia said, his pick-axe hovering dangerously close to Kumajiro.

"Don't hurt him!" Canada begged. He jumped in front of Russia, ready to protect the only entity to have ever noticed him. His heart pounded as cold sweats now covered his face; the room spun with his anxiety. He didn't want to die. He didn't want for Kumajiro to die. He just wanted to be noticed!

Canada's fingertips turned frigid as Russia lifted the axe and steadied it back, ready to unknowingly poke a hole, or several, through Canada's body.

"Put that away!" England demanded, his face red, although Canada couldn't tell if it was from anger or fear.

"Okay; I will," Russia said softly, his smile too gentle for comfort. Such a deceptively sweet smile made Canada regard Russia as a loose cannon one straw away from firing, and he made a mental note to be careful around him.

"I just put him back," China announced, then took Kumajiro out of America's grip and plopped the creature back into Canada's seat. "I'm sure problem will go away if we aggressively shove enough food in front of it. Here, enjoy tasty treat." China slammed a giant plate of dim sum dumplings in front of Kumajiro, who took them eagerly.

Canada allowed himself to breathe, and he released the breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. Thank maple syrup that Kumajiro was safe and had food to eat.

And so the meeting continued, the mysterious air of the room lingering throughout the event, and Canada sat, patiently awaiting his nonexistent turn to speak, his arms around Kumajiro tight and protective. Any moment, just any moment now. Canada knew, he was positively sure, that someone, anyone, would see him. All he had to do was wait.

However, just as always, his turn never came.

* * *

Canada lied on his couch, at home, with his eyes closed and arms hugging Kumajiro for comfort.

Being at home brought him comfort most of the time, and sometimes, including today, he'd just skip country meetings all together. No one remembered him, so why show up, he told himself.

He reminisced on those Allied Powers meetings that had occurred during World War II decades ago, and while the relationships between many countries had changed since then, one thing, unfortunately, remained the same: no one noticed Canada.

Canada wanted to be angry. He wanted to be upset. But, he was too polite to make a fuss over himself. He had wanted to whack America in the head for being such an idiot; he had wanted for France to stop talking about sex and to make sense; he had wanted for England to have kept his eyes on his seat for just a little bit longer; he had wanted for China to just notice him enough to give him a pork bun; and most of all, he didn't want for Russia to murder him or his bear. Or sit on him. Or unknowingly point a pick-axe at him. Or unknowingly kill him with said pick-axe.

His case was hopeless, Canada presumed with a deep and hefty exhale.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asked, again.

"I'm Canada, the one who feeds you," Canada replied, his eyes closing, his heart dropping, and his exasperation but also acceptance growing. His mission to get everyone, or rather anyone, to notice his presence had ended long, long ago.

Well, at least he had Kumajiro.

Even though Kumajiro failed to remember him time and time again, Canada possessed a certain fondness for the bear that endured for the entirety of his existence.

"I'm hungry," Kumajiro told Canada.

"Alright, let's get you something to eat, then," Canada said as he struggled to find the motivation to even get up. However, he put on a brave smile like all those years ago, those years when he could've actually convinced himself that he'd get noticed one day. Kumajiro stayed there in his arms, his plush fur bringing comfort to the mildly upset country.

Canada paced to the kitchen, but before he went to open the fridge, he placed Kumajiro in one of the two seats at his table. He only needed two seats because no one ever visited him, and he would've only needed one chair if it weren't for Kumajiro. Even if Kumajiro couldn't remember his name, thank maple Canada had him. He was the only one to regularly interact with - notice - Canada nowadays. He bordered on being Canada's friend.

"What do you want?" Canada asked, his voice as quiet yet kind as ever. "We have pancakes."

"Kumajiro don't want pancakes," Kumajiro whined.

"Poutine?"

"No. Poutine is cold now."

"I could heat it up for you."

"Your house is too cold!"

"Well," Canada sighed, "I guess you could tell that to global warming."

There was a pause.

"Will owner be alright?" Kumajiro asked, and Canada even picked up a hint of concern. "Does global warming hurt you?"

"I'll manage," Canada replied, smiling even though such an action proved difficult.

Canada continued looking around in his fridge, and he suddenly found something that Kumajiro might've liked. "Eh, look at that! If you want, we have honey."

"Kumajiro likes honey," said the bear.

"Alright, honey it is." Canada nodded. "You want some toast with that?"

"No." Kumajiro shook his head.

Canada set the pot of honey on the table and in front of his pet, and Kumajiro gingerly stuck his paw in so that he could get a dab of the delectable sugary treat.

"Tasty?" Canada asked, his smile wide and his heart melting from his bear's cuteness, as Kumajiro started licking the honey off his paw.

"Pretty good. Thank-you," Kumajiro answered.

"That's good." Canada chuckled as he pet Kumajiro's head.

"Are you hungry?" Kumajiro suddenly turned his head to stare at Canada right in the eyes.

Canada abruptly stopped petting Kumajiro, and his body froze at the realization that for the past day, maybe even longer, he hadn't eaten anything. "No," was his soft and hesitant reply.

"But owner hasn't eaten for two days almost." Kumajiro looked at Canada with a sad and concerned face. "Kumajiro worried."

Ah, so that was the last time he had eaten.

"I'll be fine," Canada reassured him, continuing his gentle petting as he did so.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada."

* * *

This was strange, Prussia thought to himself. He hadn't seen Canada at a world meeting, hadn't seen him at all, for the past year. He knew that Canada skipped meetings pretty often, not that he could blame him. No one noticed Canada, and the Prussian would've said something about it, but no one really payed attention to him, at least anymore, either. Everyone would just brush him off and call him an idiot if he decided to speak, or move, or even breathe. In fact, Gilbird probably listened to him more than the rest of the world combined.

Despite himself, however, Prussia felt concerned. Whenever Canada did show up, and he looked, well, sad. Prussia remembered those long-gone days when Canada would actually try to get the other countries to notice him, but Canada's cries for attention had been to no avail. He'd tried on multiple occasions to talk to Canada in person, too, but Canada always left before everyone else, making talking to him almost impossible.

Now, Canada didn't attempt to garner attention for himself at all, and that trend of uncharacteristic behavior worried Prussia. Canada, when he had actually still attended, would just sit there, looking as if this was the last place he wanted to be, and he'd scamper out the moment he could, before Prussia could so much as say hello.

Canada's sadness made Prussia kind of sad, too. Prussia remembered his only previous interaction with Canada. It was when Canada had gifted to him some awesome maple syrup, and that syrup made Prussia feel very, very awesome. Canada was nice, if not on the shy side, but Prussia had, at the time, hoped that they'd get the opportunity to talk again. Unfortunately, at this moment, that possibility seemed so out of Prussia's reach.

As the other countries bickered with each other - well, okay, almost all of them. Greece had fallen asleep - Prussia could only sit there, half dumbstruck at America's stupidity and half disappointed that he seldom saw Canada, especially during recent times.

The meeting continued on, and Prussia, with his head slumped back in boredom and Gilbird peacefully perched on his shoulder, imagined what it'd be like to once again hear Canada's faint, faint voice that begged to be listened to, the former empire himself feeling quite invisible.

* * *

While Prussia sat bored to tears at the meeting, Canada had, indeed, stayed at home.

It was another one of those days. At the moment, Canada couldn't bother with attending another world meeting. Actually, to rephrase it, he hadn't attended a world meeting since last year. His skipping of meetings had started decades ago, but as he came less and less, one day he realized that he didn't have to show up at all because no one would acknowledge the empty seat. Instead, he stayed in his self-imposed solitude.

Besides, he felt, well, he had been trying to find the words to describe such a mood for a while, but he ultimately found this feeling indescribable. All he knew was that nothing, except for Kumajiro, could make him smile. Not maple syrup, or beavers, or even absolutely obliterating everyone in hockey. Although, after every game, everyone would, without fail, forget about Canada's hockey victory the very next day, and now hockey just made him a tad miserable.

Sure, since he was a country, he had tasks to complete and stuff to think aboot, and like any country, he did his nation's paperwork and worried about things such as GDP and average household income. When he didn't have to work, though, he hardly knew what else to do. However, to be fair to him, having a hobby proved as difficult since nothing he did brought him any joy, and nowadays most of his activity consisted of him sitting on the couch with Kumajiro and watching television, although that as well didn't bring Canada any enjoyment anymore, just like everything else. TV only served as a method of killing time in all honesty.

His eating habits had been off for the past several years, too. At first, when his dodging of food originally started, he had assumed that the cold perhaps had a tendency to cut his appetite, or maybe being a country made him kind of stressed sometimes and caused for him to forget about eating. Or maybe he had stopped growing and was simply getting somewhat old. The pattern continued for a while before Canada realized that this wasn't normal, but he didn't start worrying about it until Kumajiro had started worrying.

"Is owner hungry today?" Kumajiro, the only person he'd really interacted with for the past year, said all of a sudden. Well, okay, Kumajiro wasn't a person, but he preferred a bear over nothing.

"Not really," Canada admitted.

"Will owner eat something for Kumajiro at least?" Kumajiro looked at Canada, face sad, eyes wide. How could a decent person say no to that?

"Okay. Want to join me?" Canada agreed after a brief yet telling pause. He didn't know why, but the thought of eating made his stomach churn.

Canada heated up some pancakes, then drenched them in maple syrup for both himself and Kumajiro, and he set the two plates on the table that still only contained two chairs. Canada and Kumajiro sat down, but only Kumajiro began to eat.

While Kumajiro happily devoured his stack of food, Canada found something stopping him. It wasn't as if he was afraid. Instead, he felt indifferent to the idea of eating. Pancakes didn't taste good anymore. Before, the syrup-soaked confections made his mouth water, especially with a pat of butter on top, but now, they tasted like sweet and nothing else.

Canada looked at the cooling pancakes, almost considering his former favorite food as cardboard. Still, to get Kumajiro to stop worrying about him, Canada took a careful and tentative bite. He almost spat the bite out, but he managed to keep it in his stomach upon seeing how easily Kumajiro scarfed his meal down.

It took him almost an hour, but Kumajiro sat there, waiting patiently for Canada to finish, and Canada thanked the sweet bear for such a sweet gesture.

"Thank-you for waiting," Canada told Kumajiro.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asked. Canada dryly chuckled. Then, he realized.

He felt neither sad nor lonely.

He simply felt numb, like a corpse.

* * *

Today was a bad day. A really, truly awful, horrendous day. Canada could tell the moment he woke up. He could tell because he couldn't get out of bed.

"Owner, Kumajiro worried about you today," Kumajiro told Canada in that high-pitched squeak of his. "Can Kumajiro do something to make owner feel better?"

"I'm fine," Canada replied, but he wasn't so confident of the truth within his statement.

He was supposed to be the one worrying about Kumajiro, not the other way around, and despite his inability to do so much as move, he felt guilty to no end for burdening his bear. "I'm sorry. I just feel a little down today."

"Feeling little down doesn't make you do this," Kumajiro pointed out. Canada sighed, him knowing that Kumajiro was right despite his own refusal to accept such a fact.

"I," Canada started, but he fumbled to find the strength in him to finish, "I'm sorry. Canada can't get out of bed today." He held the awareness that Kumajiro could probably barely hear him, but he couldn't speak any louder. If he did, he feared that he'd crack himself. "There're some sandwiches in the fridge. Help yourself, alright? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Canada felt Kumajiro's weight lift off the bed. He didn't hear his bear say anything as he exited Canada's room, leaving Canada in the dark and alone, for he didn't even have the energy to turn the lights on.

For a while, Canada didn't do anything. He only lied there, his head burred underneath his blankets and pillows as his body trembled. Bed didn't feel that pleasant. He wasn't experiencing that 'too warm to leave the covers' thing. His mind just didn't allow him to leave.

Finally, after who knows how long, Canada let out a whimper. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he even leave his bed, much less take care of himself? Well, he supposed that you couldn't take care of yourself if you felt dead on the inside. But why? Why did he feel this way? The questions about his mood frustrated him.

He couldn't find anything fun anymore. He couldn't motivate himself to do anything anymore. He couldn't be happy anymore.

When his hope of someone noticing him died, so did any sense of purpose. Why accomplish anything if you didn't have anything that you wanted to get done?

Canada felt really, truly, horrendously pathetic. So, so pathetic, too pathetic, in fact, to do something as simple as leave his bed.

Pathetic, so darn pathetic! he told himself.

Canada wrung and twisted and gripped his duvet, and he squeezed his eyes shut so that he could, at the very least, do something to stop the oncoming tears. He couldn't stop them, though, just like he couldn't do anything else.

He let out a sob, then another, then another, then another, and soon he found himself bawling his eyes out. Long-suppressed emotions came flooding to the surface, and Canada sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He sobbed until his eyes grew puffy, until his knees became weak, and until he didn't have any tears left to cry.

His cries filled his room, and then, at that very moment, he realized that something was very, very wrong. He realized that being unable to feel happy, or even amused, wasn't normal. He hadn't really been eating, bathing, changing his clothes, or performing any sort of self-care whatsoever. He took care of Kumajiro, so why couldn't he take care of himself? Did he even deserve to take care of himself?

Canada's cries settled down until it was him deeply sucking in his breath, then breathing out once more. The new awareness of his own internal strife gripped him, their claws keeping him in one place, the country still unable to move. Deep breaths and exhales became small, helpless whines, and you'd expect for someone to feel better after such a good cry. However, Canada didn't feel better. He still felt miserable, nearly apathetic, and such a cry might've just made things worse.

He stayed on his bed for such a long time, a deep, deep cloud of depression lingering over him. He lied, back hunched, feel curled in, and he himself so, so unsure. Come on, come on, get up! He screamed at himself to stop being so down and to just get up. It wasn't that hard, was it? Or at least, it shouldn't have been that hard.

Canada screamed. He didn't know if it was in frustration, or anger, or neglect. He just wanted to scream, scream at the top of his lungs until his voice became raw and his chest didn't have air left to give. His body rested on his back, his arms and legs flailing in blatant longing for acknowledgement and he screamed so damn loud that he didn't care if fucking Kazakhstan heard him.

"Notice me! Fucking notice me, for once in my goddamn life!" Canada wailed, his voice loud enough to make someone in Belarus go deaf. He sounded like a siren, a siren that pointed to years of isolation and emotional neglect, and mentally, Canada shattered. "Can someone hear me?! Can someone see me?! Can someone remember my goddamn name?! I'm Canada, goddammit! I'm fucking Canada!"

Then, he felt warm. He almost yelped in both fear and surprise, but warmness hugged him. Canada suddenly sensed a weight next to him. That was strange. He didn't recall Kumajiro weighing this much.

"Shh, shh," he heard a voice coo. A hand wandered its way from his torso up to his neck, and finally a hand had found its way over to his chest in order to support it. That handed supported his heart as well. "Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay." The voice was soft, gentle, but also somewhat scratchy.

"It's not okay! It's not okay!" Canada screeched. He didn't have it in him to think aboot whether this person next to him had broken into his house. He just craved the attention and comfort he thought he didn't deserve.

"I hear you; I see you; you're Canada, Canada," said such comforting words.

"Kumajiro!" Kumajirio exclaimed as he leaped into Canada's shaking arms. "Kumajiro brought someone to make owner feel all better!" Canada hugged Kumajiro so tightly that he was surprised that the bear didn't complain.

Hands, hands that weren't Kumajiro's fuzzy paws, gently embraced Canada, and that gentle, scratchy voice said over and over again, "You're Canada. You're Canada. You're Canada. You're Canada, and I can see and hear you."

Those words brought Canada to tears that he didn't have.

"Oh, why won't they notice me? Why won't anyone notice me?" Canada asked between sobs.

"I notice you."

* * *

Prussia hadn't expected for a stuffed bear to come one day, knocking on his door and begging him to come with him.

"I walked, and I found your house after a while. I don't know you, but owner needs someone to make him all better!" The bear stood on Prussia's snowy front doorstep, his animated voice sounding desperate.

Of course, Prussia had been confused. Why him? What the hell did an adorable stuffed bear want with him? However, said adorable stuffed bear was asking, practically pleading, for Prussia to come, saying over and over and over again, "Owner not okay! Owner not okay! Need your help! Walked too far for no help!" It made him want to help.

Prussia wondered if following a strange bear who'd come to him in the middle of a snowstorm was a good idea, though.

Then, the ah-ha! moment whacked Prussia right in the back of his skull. It wasn't any random bear; it was Canada's bear. Was his name Kujamiro? Kimbajaro? Kumamario? Oh, that's right, Kumajiro.

Prussia threw on a winter coat, a pair of gloves, and a scarf, and after tucking Gilbird into the safety of his warm pocket, he followed the bear.

The distance Kumajiro had walked in the cold surprised Prussia a great deal. They passed England's, and France's, and America's houses. All three of those countries were so much closer, so why go to Prussia?

Eventually, Prussia felt such pity for the creature that he swung the bear onto his shoulders and carried him through the blizzard while the stuffy told him where and when to turn.

Prussia wandered for a great deal of time, but before he knew it, they'd arrived at Canada's house.

Now Prussia was here, comforting a country he barely saw, but nonetheless, he felt a need to comfort him. He had wondered where Canada had been. He'd skipped so many world meetings, and while Prussia wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, he sure as hell did. In fact, he experienced a sort of kinship with Canada. Prussia, long, long ago, had existed as an empire, a great, great empire, but now he was merely East Germany, a part of a nation bigger than himself. Because of that, countries who had once cowered in his presence now laughed at him.

He had wanted to check up on Canada. He'd been planning on doing that for a while. However, he didn't know if he was close enough to Canada to pay him a visit, and now, as he held Canada in his feeble attempt to help him bear his burdens, Prussia mentally slapped himself for waiting until the poor country was in such a state before coming.

"Oh, why won't they notice me? Why won't anyone notice me?" Canada asked between sobs.

"I notice you."

Canada suddenly stopped crying. His shoulders stopped shaking. He stopped looking miserable for a moment, a precious, tiny little moment.

Canada turned, and Prussia came face to face with red, puffy eyes.

"P-prussia?!" Canada stammered.

Prussia smiled more softly than he'd ever had before. He wasn't used to being this gentle, this kind, but he made an exception. He looked rough, aggressive, and callous on the outside, but he couldn't stand to see someone like this.

"You came all the way here?" Canada looked weak. He looked helpless.

Prussia nodded.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bother you! Kumajiro was behind this, wasn't he?" Canada exclaimed, his expression one of modification.

"Nah, no problem at all! How can I be awesome if I can't be there for at least one other country? You should thank Kumajiro, because now awesome Prussia will help you feel awesome, too!" Prussia replied.

Canada still looked pretty upset, prompting for Gilbird to burst of Prussia's pocket, land on Canada's shoulder, and rub his soft, feathery face against his cheek.

Neither country said anything.

As Prussia, Canada, and Kumajiro remained in their shared embrace, with Gilbird still on Canada's shoulder, Prussia noted that Canada felt cold to the touch, and that scared him. Canada looked cold and sad, and Prussia had no idea what to do. So, Prussia sat, hugging Canada as he cried into the other man's arms.

At the time, a start like that seemed like it'd lead to nothing, much less friendship, but somehow it did. Somehow, Kumajiro had found the right house, and by extension the right person, to console Canada that day, and what a messy yet glorious day it was, for it was the start of something beautiful.

* * *

Prussia was a frequent of his house at this point. He came so often, so many times, that Canada had stopped counting. He often brought Gilbird with him, too.

After Canada had sobbed his heart out into Prussia's shoulder, they sat there in awkward, awkward silence, and Prussia left soon after. Canada hadn't expected to see much of the former nation after that, but two days later, he awoke to be greeted by the sound of someone vigorously pounding his door.

Groggily, he climbed out of bed, wondering if it was a mailman, although it'd been ages since anyone had sent him any letters, and sleepily opened the door. At his home's entrance stood an excitable and enthusiastic Prussia, and a chipper little Gilbird just barely hovered over his shoulder.

Prussia came in as soon as Canada opened the door, and he asked Canada about his mental state. Then, they made and ate pancakes together and watched some television. They couldn't sit at Canada's dinner table because there weren't enough seats for him, Prussia, and Kumajiro to all sit comfortably - although, Canada supposed that Gilbird could hang out directly on the table since he was far too tiny for a chair - so they made do with the couch. After that, Prussia, like the first time he had come over, left, but, also like that first time, he returned. Kumajiro also began developing a liking to the ex-country and his pet bird, which made Canada glad that his Kumajiro had some other friends to play with.

Canada found Prussia coming more and more. They'd eat pancakes, or poutine, or something stereotypical of Canada, or Prussia would bring some sausages or take-out, and they'd sit on the sofa, watch TV, and talk for a little before Prussia left again.

Prussia's visits started out short, no more than an hour or two at most, but, as time passed, they became longer. As more time passed, Canada occasionally mustered the energy to visit Prussia - Prussia lived in Germany's basement now - on his good days.

Canada actually had something to look forward to. He had something to do that was neither a chore nor a complete and utter bore. It was _fun_. He could actually have _fun_ again.

Prussia eventually graduated to crashing at Canada's place over the weekend, and Canada, surprisingly, would do the same at Prussia's - Germany's - place. Obviously, he didn't leave Kumajiro at home, afraid that his precious little bear would get lonely. Plus, Kumajiro was the reason why Canada and Prussia had grown so close, and Gilbird and Kumajro loved frolicking around with each other while Canada and Prussia were unavailable.

The first time Prussia stayed at Canada's place overnight, he slept in the previously rarely-used guest room, and the first time Canada spent the night at Prussia's place, he slept in the guest room as well. But, Prussia was Prussia, and one night he complained that sleeping by himself felt lonely. Of course, they did the only thing sane people would do: they slept in bed together.

This continued for several months, with Canada and Prussia spending an increasing amount of time together inside and outside their homes. They'd go to the latest Canadian horror movies, or Prussia would tour Canada around East Germany, or they would, Kumajiro and Gilbird included, eat out at restaurants as Canada slowly found his hunger return ever so slightly.

Canada felt invigorated, maybe even a tad happy for the first time in forever. Prussia sometimes talked about his problems as well, about how everyone had forgotten that he was once a mighty nation; about how he, too, felt lonely; and about how he found a sort of kinship with Canada, even before they became friends. Canada was more than happy to help, and in return Prussia listened to him ramble for hours about stupid, annoying America going around the world and making a mess that Canada would have to clean up, or how he was practically a ghost that no one could see, or the fact that hardly anyone remembered his name.

They'd sip tea and look at pretty mountains and laugh in joy at Canada's low gun crime rates and free healthcare, like a Canada club of sorts. They'd complain about how everyone else overshadowed them, and be adamant on how awesome both Canada and Prussia were. Prussia even helped Canada tackle his inner demons, bit by bit, little by little, and slowly, gradually, thankfully, Canada's mood began to lift. He had even started attending world meetings again. Only every once in a while, of course. Baby steps, eh?

Speaking of baby steps, Canada decided that today, he'd take, instead of another baby step, a very big step, or at least he saw it as a big step. He decided that today would be the day he added another chair to his kitchen table.

It'd be nice, for all three of them to sit around the table, eat pancakes, and talk smack about other countries - *cough*America*cough* -. Canada felt giddy in a way. He'd never been more excited in his life, and it was such a silly, silly reason, but at the same time, his excitement, to him, seemed very valid.

He hadn't visited a furniture store in a while. Without anyone coming over, he found it unnecessary to redecorate his house or get new furniture, but now, delighted that he'd found a reason to shop for a new chair, he gleefully ventured to the Nordic countries. Denmark had mentioned at one time that the region produced cheap, affordable, and practical home appliances.

The chair didn't need to match the rest of the table. Canada just needed another seat so that he and his friends could sit all together around the table.

"So, what do you think?" Canada asked Kumajiro, who sat in a harness that fastened around Canada's chest.

"Who are you?" The question gave Canada not a lick of surprise. Canada didn't feel upset this time, however. Canada simply gave out a light-hearted, good-natured chuckle.

"Alright, let's go!" Canada exclaimed as a burst of energy swept through his body. He ran, ran faster than he ever thought he could, to Sweden's house, or perhaps he'd find something at Denmark's nearby.

He'd never looked forward to something so much, and while before he'd asked himself why he couldn't be happy, at this point he didn't need to ask himself. At this point, he just knew that he was happy. Actually, he felt more than happy. He felt delighted, elated, as if he could do anything if he set his mind to it.

With a pep in his step and his arms swinging freely to his sides, Canada felt so light, the weight of depression, at least for the next ten minutes, lifting from his shoulders.

He knew that he had a long way to go. He knew that the emptiness, the apathy he constantly felt wouldn't go away just because he had a friend now. He still needed to see a therapist eventually, and he still sometimes couldn't get out of bed or eat a full meal, but maybe, perhaps maybe, hope floated above his head within grasping distance. He saw a tiny yet bright twinkle in the sky, and he only had to jump up and reach for the stars. His burden weighed heavily on him, but he didn't have to carry it alone anymore. Now, he had a friend to carry it with him. Now, his burden crushed him just a tiny bit less. Now, he had this tiny, tiny chance of being happy.

* * *

It had been an oddly busy week, especially considering his status as an ex-nation and the fact that Prussia essentially free-loaded off of Germany at this point in time. Therefore, Prussia hadn't gotten the opportunity to visit Canada, nor had Canada been able to visit him, so when the opportunity did present itself again, Prussia immediately snatched it up, even if he had to make such a visit at eight P.M.

He felt guilty, really, really guilty for not coming over. He had just been so unusually, unnaturally busy that a week passed before he knew it. He'd make it up to Canada, though. That was a promise, more to himself than to Canada, because he could never break the promises he made to himself.

However, he also felt excited. He'd been thinking about Canada all week, so the chance to pop by Canada's home naturally made him feel elated.

"Hey! I'm really sorry about being so busy this week. I don't even know why I've been so hung up because I'm not even a country anymore! I promise it won't happen again for a while, though." Prussia, with Gilbird over his shoulder and a warm - albeit absurdly large - pot in his hands, greeted as Canada opened the door for him. Even though it'd only been a week, it felt as if he was about to reunite with a long-lost friend.

Then, Prussia got a good look of Canada, and his heart fell because Canada looked absolutely awful.

"Hi." Canada's voice crack sounded like a bullet to Prussia's ears because it pained him to see Canada looking so miserable. In fact, he looked more than miserable; he looked exhausted. Canada's shaggy hair had a severe case of bedhead. That in itself didn't appear to be significant, but after spending this much time with him, Prussia knew that late-evening bedhead indicated that Canada had been sleeping all day. Canada's eye-bags also told of his overwhelming tiredness despite the excessive sleep, and he looked so weak and frail, and his slouch made him seem so small, that he probably would've brought an Englishman to tears.

Prussia immediately understood that Canada was having a bad, bad day. He'd seen Canada get better, feel better, but occasionally, a step backwards proved as inevitable. Prussia didn't feel disappointed or angry that Canada stumbled on his journey to happiness. He knew that Canada recovering from depression wouldn't happen overnight; things wouldn't get all better just because he now had someone to help ease the grip of such a disease.

Prussia could only sit there, sometimes helplessly, and listen and rub Canada's shoulders and tell him that he'd always be there for him. Prussia told Canada that no, he wasn't bothering Prussia, no, he wasn't going crazy just because the problems he had were in his head, and yes, he cared for him and didn't care what he had to do to make things better.

"Kumajiro!" Kumajirio proclaimed, and he ran from the couch and into Prussia's leg, hugging it.

"Oh, looks like your awesome little buddy is excited to see awesome me!" Prussia laughed in hopes of lightening the mood. Canada smiled for a split second, a smile that was small but also meaningful.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Canada's eyebrows raised themselves on his forehead. "Come in! Make yourself at home!" That sentence made Prussia smile. Canada's house had become a second home for Prussia.

"Need a hug?" Prussia asked, his words tender, his heart feeling quite very soft. Canada nodded, so Prussia hugged him in an embrace that contained all the love he had in him.

"Thank-you," Canada said, sighing into Prussia's coat as he did so, and he hugged Prussia back.

They let each other go, almost hesitantly, and when they walked into the kitchen, Prussia found a delightful surprise waiting for him.

"What?! This is so awesome! You bought a third chair for the table!" Prussia's hands became excited fists. His overcoat fluttered, somehow, in the room's non-existent draft. He felt a sense of pride for Canada, and he himself felt special. Canada had purchased a chair, an act which seemed small, but Prussia knew that such an action was a big deal to someone in Canada's circumstances.

The chair stood proudly as a third seat, and despite the chair being bright green and not matching the rest of the table set, Prussia loved it.

"Yeah." Canada's mood appeared to lift slightly. "I got it last week. It's so that Kumajiro doesn't have to sit on my lap if we decide to eat here."

"Well, I could've just sat on your lap, then," Prussia joked. The joke caused for Canada to turn as red as one of Romano's tomatoes.

"P-prussia, stop that!" Canada wielded a look of pure embarrassment on his face, or to Prussia, pure cuteness.

"Alright, alright," Prussia snickered, then thought that he'd bring attention to the steaming pot he'd brought over. "Italy gave me some pasta last night. I've tried his food before. It's good, thought that you'd want some, but I call dibs on that awesome bright green chair!"

"Thank-you! That's so sweet," Canada replied, his soft smile returning for a bit longer this time.

Prussia offered to serve the food, so while Canada seated himself and Kumajiro, Prussia retrieved some dishes out of Canada's cabinet.

"I'm pretty glad that you came over with food, actually. Kumajiro's already had some chicken, but there wasn't enough left for myself." Even though Canada said it casually, the comment made Prussia frown in worry. Canada did that a lot. He'd have no problem caring for Kumajiro, but Canada had a problem with caring for himself. During some of his bad days, he didn't change clothes or eat or shower, and it concerned Prussia to the utmost degree. Prussia said nothing about it, but the moment of contemplative silence both of them shared spoke volumes.

"Alright, dinner is served, monsieur," Prussia chuckled as he parodied France, a country who had, along with England, raised Canada. It made Prussia miserable to think that Canada's adoptive parents had left him in the dust, too, that they, too, forgot about him. How could they? How could they forget their own child? Their sweet, kind, considerate, and adorable child? How could they, or anyone, forget about Canada? Canada was awesome, too. He deserved love and attention, too.

Prussia, as he said he would, claimed Canada's new neon green chair. To the average person, the chair was an eyesore. To Prussia, it was special.

After giving Gilbird one of his noodles, Prussia started shoveling pasta into his mouth. So did Kumajirio, even though he'd just eaten a meal, and Prussia guessed that stuffed animals had special rules when it came to metabolism. Canada, on the other hand, took small, careful bites. He probably wasn't that hungry. Having depression often did that to Canada. Prussia didn't hate Canada, far from it, but he hated how the lack of acknowledgement from other countries affected Canada in such a way.

Prussia wanted, or rather needed, to amend this somehow. Sure, since Prussia had been dissolved, they ignored him these days, but he'd had his moment before. He'd been acknowledged as an awesome, powerful nation in the past. He knew what it felt like to command the room. He'd had that luxury during his glorious heydays, and for that he was grateful. Unfortunately, Canada had never experienced such an awesome feeling.

.

At that moment a light-bulb went off over Prussia's head. His eyes widened, and his shoulders perked. This idea was fucking awesome. Of course the idea was awesome; he'd come up with it.

"Canada," Prussia announced. He knew that his eyes contained fire within them, and in his mind determination ran around frantically, more frantically and excitedly than it'd ever before. He and Canada were going to do this. Canada would get his long overdue moment in the spotlight. It would be the best, most awesomest thing ever. Prussia smelled the excitement in the air, along with the standing ovation.

"Yeah, what is it?" Canada inquired, his face weary yet curious.

"You're tired of people not noticing you, right?" Prussia asked Canada for confirmation of something he was sure he already knew, but just to be safe, he asked anyway. Yes, he was loud and annoying and extraordinarily obnoxious, but he didn't assume things. He either knew it or he didn't, and he wasn't afraid to admit that.

"Yeah." Canada nodded, his expression morphing into part confused, part suspicious. "Why?

"Because we're going to sing a duet about Canada in front of everyone at the next world meeting," Prussia told him. He grinned from ear to ear, so confident, so giddy, so excited that god himself would be unable to stop him. "And it's going to be fucking awesome."

* * *

"Because we're going to sing a duet about Canada in front of everyone at the next world meeting," Prussia told him. He grinned from ear to ear, so confident, so giddy, so excited that god himself would be unable to stop him. "And it's going to be fucking awesome."

Canada didn't speak for a while, him being too shocked to fully register what the other had just said. Finally, it clicked within his brain, and he almost fell out of his chair as his heart nearly stopped.

"We're WHAT?" Canada stared at Prussia, his hands on the table to support his now unsteady upper body, and his eyes grew to the size of saucers. "In front of everyone?! Prussia, I'm not sure if I can do that."

"You'll have me, right? It's going to be awesome!" Prussia's smile, if that was even possible, grew wider, and at that moment Canada realized that there would be no way out of this. Canada gulped nervously, took a deep breath, and said a final goodbye to his sanity. Still, he tried to wiggle his way out.

"I don't think I can do that. I can't even sing that well." Canada was shaking so hard that the table trembled with him, his pupils shrinking into two tiny black dots.

"Well, I think you can, because you're awesome!" Prussia's smile grew wider.

"Can I at least think about it? Or, you know, have a say in this?" Canada asked in a futile attempt to get Prussia to slow down.

"But Canada, I want them to notice you! I want them to see how fucking awesome you are! You may be weary of the idea, but you deserve it! You deserve for people to, at the very least, not confuse you for America!" Prussia waved his arms around. He looked more like an overly excited child than scary, but Canada remained scared to death. He'd only recently started going to world meetings again, and despite his year-long absence, he didn't get noticed at all. Same as always.

"Are you really sure they'll notice?" Canada whimpered. He cowered at the idea of singing in front of all those people who had no idea who he was, unsure if they'd pay attention to him even if he were to sing a ridiculous duet with Prussia.

Prussia then settled back down, his voice going from loud and obnoxious to quiet and comforting in an instant. He placed his hand on top of Canada's trembling one, and his smile softened into something Canada found more manageable. "I know they'll notice. They just haven't in the past because you've never told them how awesome you are. And even if those losers don't notice you, I do, yeah? I'd love to see you singing and dancing your heart out. I'd love to see you enjoy yourself. Wouldn't you want to do that, too?"

Prussia's statement made Canada feel special. It made him smile back. A genuine, honest-to-god smile. Prussia was right. Canada had wanted so, so badly for others to notice him, and while there existed better ways to attract attention, this was Prussia he was talking aboot. In-your-face, Bad Touch Trio, fourth-wall-aware Prussia.

Prussia stayed over night that day. As usual, they slept in Canada's bed with Prussia hugging Canada particularly tightly that night, and Canada adored that warm and cozy embrace.

When they woke up the next day, Canada's body actually contained an ounce of energy. Yes, within him sat an actual drop of motivation to do something other than complete paperwork and watch TV. With his newfound energy, he and Prussia began their mission, a mission which involved bad singing and autotune so awful that it reeked of a spur of the moment decision and musical inexperience.

Prussia suggested that no one had yet written a song that bundled up all of Canada's awesomeness into one package, so they concluded that the best option would be to write their own anthem. Sure, Canada liked his national anthem, but Prussia said that he wanted a song that contained even more Canadian awesomeness.

Canada would spout out facts aboot himself, along with grievances he had against other countries - *cough*America*cough* - while Prussia wrote them down in lyric form, and by the end of the day, they had written their song.

"Okay, this is good." Prussia seemed pleased. "We made a lot of progress today, and if we keep going at this rate, we should have everything ready for the world conference that's in two weeks."

"Wait, what do you mean by everything?" Canada was curious but also a tad terrified of the wild ideas running through Prussia's head.

"We're going suits, turntables, speakers, confetti, all nine yards of course!" Prussia faced Canada, that charming, energetic grin of his stretching all across his face. "This awesome song needs an equally awesome performance. You have a suit, right?"

"Um," Canada stuttered. Now that he thought about it, most of his clothes didn't fit properly anymore, including his suit. When he had started attending world conferences again, he made do with his sweatshirt, maybe a flannel during some of his better days, in order to hide how bony he looked. "I don't have one, not one that fits me, anyway," Canada admitted, him almost feeling ashamed.

"Well, we'll just have to get you one, then!" Prussia playfully slapped Canada on the back, and he laughed gleefully as Kumajiro and Gilbird crawled onto his white head of hair.

"Kumajiro excited!" Kumajiro, after lingering on Prussia's head for a few moments, leaped into Canada's waiting arms, and when he hugged Canada, so did Prussia, which sent all three of them tumbling to the ground. Gilbird, luckily, managed to leap off of Prussia's head in time.

Canada sighed, although he was also secretly ecstatic. It would be a long two weeks for sure, but he, for reasons he couldn't explain, looked forward to it all.

A thought occurred to him, though. "Wait, Prussia, do you think I'll be able to afford all of this?"

"No worries!" Prussia was still laying on top of Canada, their faces close and intimate. "Your awesome friend will take care of it!"

"A-are you sure?" Canada felt nervous for Prussia. Prussia's economy wasn't as robust as some of the other European nations' with even his own brother, Germany, being the one with the stronger economy out of the two. In fact, the Canadian economy greatly out-performed that of East Germany, too.

"I can pay at least some of it! I'd feel ready bad putting this on you alone!" What Canada said rang true. Canada almost religiously adhered to his polite Canadian stereotype, so he, in good conscience, couldn't let Prussia bear the costs alone.

"Nah, don't worry about it!" Prussia repeated. "Trust me; I'll take care of everything!"

After the four of them ate dinner, which consisted of the leftover pasta from yesterday, Prussia went home, promising Canada that tomorrow, he'd come back with the funds necessary for his crazy, borderline audacious scheme.

.

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Prussia came the next day with enough money for the project, along with four spherical head bumps stacked on top of one another.

"What in the maple happened to you?!" Canada looked at Prussia in shock, his eyes pinning into dots when he got a good view of some of Prussia's other injuries. From what Canada could see, Prussia had four head bumps that each sat on top of each other in a vertical manner - the bumps made Canada shutter because it reminded him of the time Cuba mistook him for America and pummeled him for of it - a black eye, a bruised shoulder, and a missing tooth. Anyone else would have found the spectacle to approach comedy, but Canada couldn't so much as think to make fun of his injured friend, even if he would heal up probably within the day.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just asked Germany for a small loan. Long story short, he called me a moron, hit me a few times. But, good news, I got him to begrudgingly give me money!" Prussia practically ripped out his wallet, and he proudly held it in the air as if that wallet contained his greatest, most note-worthy accomplishments.

"I'm so sorry aboot that! You really didn't have to do that for me; I could have paid my fair share!" Canada experienced a wave of guilt that washed over him like a tidal wave, and after the initial surprise of seeing Prussia injured, his guilt lingered, clinging to him like water.

"Ah, no problem. Besides, the whole thing was my idea, so naturally, the awesome thing to do would be to cover the costs." Prussia rolled his eyes as his lips curled into a goofy smile, and he made a circle motion with his hand, as if trying to brush off such a violent incident like he would dirt. Prussia smirked, looking right at Canada as he did so. "Well, we have some shopping to do, eh?"

"Saying 'eh' is my thing." Canada giggled, slightly amused that his friend had started to pick up on his vocabulary.

And so, Canada, Prussia, Kumajiro, and Gilbird all piled into Canada's car which, of course, had been painted red and white with a red maple leaf on the hood.

* * *

"So, do you know your measurements?" the tailor asked Canada when he and Prussia placed in an order for Canada's suit.

"Gee, I don't know, actually," Canada, at the moment looking quite flustered, informed. "It's been so long since I've bought new clothes for myself that I've forgotten."

With that, the tailor began measuring Canada with a tape, his eyes appearing to quirk in surprise at the unusually low numbers.

A twinge of worry shot through Prussia's heart like electricity. At that moment he figured out that Canada's choice of loose and baggy clothing hadn't been intentional, but was a byproduct of him a) losing weight due to a depression-caused lack of appetite, causing for his current clothes to be several sizes too big and b) the loss of motivation to self care, self care which included buying new clothes for himself.

When Canada first told Prussia how much he had truly been struggling, he and Prussia, with the help of the internet, researched Canada's symptoms, and both quickly came to the conclusion that Canada was most likely afflicted with some form of clinical depression, although it could've been something else. They weren't professionals, so Prussia was hesitant to slap a mental health label on his friend.

However, Canada had lost interest in getting other countries to notice him, or, to put it more accurately, he'd lost interest in most things. His mood was consistently down. He suffered from alarming appetite loss and low self-confidence. All the symptoms were there, screaming at anyone who took more than a glance, and while Prussia couldn't give Canada a diagnosis, especially without a professional, he worried to no end.

When Prussia had hugged Canada for the first time, during their second ever meeting while the Canadian was having a meltdown, Prussia felt the frailness, the delicateness of the other's waist, chest, and shoulders. This concerned him, but initially he brushed it off. It was winter, so maybe Canada lost some weight during that season due to the cold, since that often happened to Prussia and some of the other countries who lived in colder climates.

Over the next few months, he had hugged Canada again and again, each time hoping, wishing, praying, that he'd feel more than bones. Of course, he also hugged his friend as an affectionate gesture and to bring him comfort, not just to keep track of his weight. However, every time Prussia hugged Canada, Canada grew thinner, more skeleton-like, and Prussia felt helpless, absolutely helpless, because he couldn't do anything about it. He'd talked to Canada about getting help. He'd put together a list of suggested psychiatrists to encourage his friend to, rather than ignore it, deal with the overwhelming sadness, or perhaps numbness, he felt on the inside. So far, though, no result.

Canada ate more when Prussia came over, he was sure of that much, but he couldn't be with Canada every moment of every day because it just wasn't realistic for either of them. In addition, Canada, despite being a lonely nation, needed time to himself, too. It couldn't just be all about Canada and Prussia. A lot of the time, it needed to be about, or rather aboot, Canada and Canada only.

"Oh, Prussia, the tailor's done. We can go now." Canada unknowingly interrupted Prussia from his inner turmoil, and for a second Prussia looked at the blonde-haired man who was unknowingly and ironically at the center of the other's inner strife.

"He said that I'm kind of small, so it's a good thing that we're custom ordering. He wasn't even sure if he had anything for me in the store's available sizes. Who would've thought?" Canada chuckled. He sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his head, blushing a little in presumable embarrassment, and he looked downright adorable. Prussia smiled and shoved his concerns down his throat for now. They'd talk about it once they got home because Prussia didn't want to disturb Canada's currently chipper and vibrant mood.

"Alright, let's go then!" Prussia jumped, his feet now walking on air. As Canada followed with Kumajiro in his arms, Prussia skipped along.

"Where to next?" Canada questioned as they got in the car, him starting the ignition as he spoke.

"Let me see." Prussia took out a straight and pristine notepad because, due to his relation to Germany, he had the need to keep everything he owned neat and orderly. Although, other nations always found the Prussian's preference for neatness a surprise. "We have to get the DJ, the projector, confetti cannons, oh! And we can't forget about the speakers. I want to blast everyone's ears off. And-"

Prussia was about to read off more items on his list, but Canada stopped him, saying, "I know you got some money from Germany, but are you really sure you can afford this?"

"Yeah, no prob," Prussia reassured once again. Anything to get people to notice Canada, he thought to himself, even if it meant - not that he'd ever tell Canada about it lest he want to make him feel guilty - Germany taking the crap out of him for the next few months. "Don't worry boot it, okay? I've got it covered!"

"Okay, if you say so," Canada replied, his voice sounding soft, if not somewhat uncertain. "But promise me that you'll only get the four items you listed. I don't want to give you any more economic trouble."

"Okay, okay, I promise." But begrudgingly.

They continued with their errands during the morning, and for lunch they stopped at a café Canada told Prussia he liked.

"It's a really nice French cafe," Canada said as he drove, his face perking up as the restaurant came into view. "You know, Canada, especially the province of Quebec, is really known for French influence. I haven't really shown you my French side, have I?"

Then, Prussia noticed that as they drove through Quebec, the majority of the signs were in French.

"French is predominantly spoken here," Canada commented. "Although, the dialect sometimes causes for French and Quebec French to have different words for the same thing."

All of this honestly made Prussia kind of nervous. "My French isn't that awesome. Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry aboot it. I'll take care of it, alright?" Canada assured as he smiled at Prussia. Prussia adored that sugary-sweet smile of his.

After Canada displayed his, in Prussia's opinion, awesome parking skills, he and Canada, with Kumajiro swinging in between them and Gilbird flapping along, entered the French-Canadian café.

"Bienvenue!" A hostess came up to greet them, and after giving them their menus, she asked, "Vous préférez l'extérieur ou l'intérieur?"

Prussia was confused.

"L'intérieur, s'il vous plaît," Canada told her.

Prussia's confusion grew.

The hostess lead them to a table next to the window, and after Canada said something in French that Prussia couldn't pick out at all, the hostess pulled up another chair for them.

"Votre serveur va arriver bientôt," said the hostess as they sat down, and she walked away in order to welcome in the customers who were next in line.

Prussia's confusion was now ready to bubble over as his brain started to figuratively melt.

"What did she say?" Prussia whispered to Canada. "And what did _you_ say?"

Canada chuckled lightly before replying with, "She said 'welcome', then asked if we wanted to sit on the inside or outside. I told her inside, and then I asked for an extra seat for Kumajiro. Then she told us 'your waiter will arrive soon'."

"Oh, okay." Prussia nodded. He didn't know what else to say. He honest to god felt awkward, but he knew that it was only a taste of the discomfort Canada felt on a daily basis. For that, the least he could do for Canada was grit his teeth and take in stride all this French.

"So, what do you want to order?" Canada asked Prussia. He didn't forget about Kumajiro, either, and asked the stuffy, "And what do you want?"

Kumajiro pointed to a menu item that, in name, vaguely resembled pudding, and it caused for Prussia to wonder out loud to Canada if Kumajiro knew French, too.

"A little. Pouding chomeur is one of his favorite desserts, but I'm not that good at making it, so he can normally only get it if we go out." Canada looked more comfortable than before, probably because they were in his domain now. Canada had been overshadowed time and time again, especially by his brother, but Prussia would have loved to see America try to make it through Quebec without Canada, as he didn't know a lick of French. The thought of that almost made Prussia snicker.

"So do you see anything you might like?" Canada looked at Prussia, who currently swam in a pool of incomprehensible French words and phrases.

"As I said, my French isn't that strong." Prussia broke eye contact with Canada, him being somewhat self-conscious that his French was probably around as good as America's German. "Is there anything that you really like? If you order it, I'll order it, too."

"I order the tourtière pretty often." Canada then paused for a while, as if thinking. "It's a meat pie. You think you'd like that? And will water be fine?"

"Sounds good." Prussia nodded, him looking forward to the food. He and Canada had been too busy this morning to eat a proper meal for breakfast, with Prussia and Kumajiro downing a stale pancake each and Canada drinking some juice, so his stomach was currently demanding from him some sustenance.

Not too long after the hostess left, the waiter came, his expression a mixture of bored and serious, with a notepad in hand and a pencil tucked over his ear.

"Bonjour. Qu'est-ce que voudriez manger et boire?" he asked both of them.

"What did he say?" Prussia, for the second time that day, asked.

"He asked us what we want to eat and drink," Canada replied, and Prussia secretly made a mental note to learn French because then he'd have an easier time getting through Quebec, just in case Canada wanted to go again.

"Nous voudrions deux tourtières et de l'eau, s'il vous plaît," Canada responded as he pointed to himself and Prussia, and as Canada spoke, Prussia became more and more amazed. Sure, he held the vague awareness that Canada had French influence, but watching Canada and French culture interact with his own two eyeballs was fascinating. He'd never seen Canada so in his element before.

"Et il voudrait le pouding chomeur. Il voudrait de l'eau aussi." Canada pointed to Kumajiro as he told the waiter the bear's order.

"Est-ce que vous voudrais autre chose?" the waiter asked.

"Non. Merci."

The waiter went to the kitchen to enter the order, and Prussia could only sit there, staring at Canada while also being completely, utterly, irreversibly awe-struck.

"You're looking at me like I've grown a maple tree out of my head," Canada remarked. Prussia smiled when he heard how flawlessly Canada transitioned between French and English.

"Damn, never thought that frog's language could sound that good," Prussia sighed, happy and smitten. "It's so cute when you speak French."

"Aw, shucks. It's nothing." Canada blushed and looked away bashfully.

When their food came, Kumajiro immediately tucked into his dessert, which looked like a cake soaked with maple syrup, but Prussia decided to wait a little before he began eating. He wanted to see how well Canada had taken to the food, and he internally sighed at the sight next to him.

Canada used his fork to prod the pie slice, almost with suspicion, as he took the tiniest, tiniest bite.

"What's the matter? Dig in!" Canada insisted when he noticed that Prussia hadn't started eating.

Canada's statement prompted for Prussia to hack off a piece of pie for Gilbird, and only then did he start eating. But, he continued his observations on Canada. Prussia's worry swelled when Canada said that he felt full after finishing only around half of his meal.

"You sure? You haven't eaten much all day." Prussia wanted to tell Canada to eat more, that skirting food this much and this often wasn't healthy, but he didn't know how to express such concerns. All he could do was watch, as if he sat behind a thick wall of glass while his best friend gradually destroyed himself.

"I'm fine," Canada smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not too hungry today."

 _"But you're always not hungry,"_ Prussia wanted to say, but he didn't.

"Kumajiro finished!"

Prussia and Canada looked at Kumajiro and his empty plate.

"Enjoyed that?" Canada gingerly stroked Kumajiro's fur, causing for the creature to hum happily. Canada, being the polite Canadian that he was, paid the tab, and after he scooped Kumajiro up into his thin arms, Prussia followed Canada out and into the car.

After that, they worked on their upcoming duet for the next two weeks. They made tweaks and improvements to their song; they bought more supplies - much to Germany's dismay; and, to boot, Prussia thought that Canada looked drop-dead gorgeous in his newly tailored flannel suit. All the while, they spent more and more time with each other, grew closer, enjoyed the other's company even more than before. Prussia didn't feel alone anymore, not when he had Canada by his side, and he could only hope that Canada felt the same way. This was better, so much better, than being a lonely, lonely empire or a lonely, lonely ex-country.

They pulled all-nighters, and consumed copious amounts of maple syrup, and hugged and snuggled on the couch with Kumajiro after finishing the day's work. Prussia didn't think about forming an alliance or setting up a trade deal or anything of that nature. Those were his business relationships, with all that miserable political maneuvering and one-uping each other. Prussia's relationship with Canada was of the much more personal, much more important, variety. Canada was no mere acquaintance or ally; he was Prussia's very dear friend.

Canada seemed unsure. He seemed not too confident in himself. But, Prussia desired with all his heart to amend this. He want so, so badly for Canada to have his special moment when everyone laid eyes on him and couldn't look away, and hopefully, this musical stunt would act as a confidence booster for his friend as well.

Before they knew it, the time for the world conference came, and accompanying the excitement in the walls of Canada's house was the country's equally powerful stage fright.

* * *

"Oh my maple syrup, I'm scared." Canada wanted to cry. He and Prussia stood, or rather were hunched over, in front of the large, intimidating doors of the convention hall. Sure, he'd expected to feel a little apprehensive aboot singing such a ridiculous song in front of all the nations, but he never thought that it'd be this bad.

When he and Prussia entered the conference building, Canada started shaking, and after a long and arduous trek down the hall, his stress only intensified multiple times over. In fact, Canada bordered the edge of what he assumed to be a panic attack.

Prussia gently wrapped his arm around Canada's trembling shoulders, and Canada felt butterflies, tingles, hiccups, cold fingers, sweat. Whatever symptoms of nervousness and anxiety existed, you name it, and Canada had it. His legs practically turned into noddles as his body helplessly flopped around, and the room suddenly started spinning like a merry-go-round. Canada gripped his hair, then fiddled with his tie, then went back to almost pulling all his hair out, all the while wondering how the hell Prussia had managed to rope him into this.

"Don't worry, you'll be great!" he heard Prussia say.

Canada couldn't say anything back. He couldn't even respond with a nonverbal gesture because the intense anxiety he felt prevented him from doing anything but panic. He wanted to flee over the hills and to his country's mountaintops, but at the same time his body wouldn't allow for him to move a centimeter. It had taken a monumental effort to walk from the entrance of the building to the entrance of the conference room, and Canada knew not if he could take another step.

Prussia held Canada up by the waist while Kumajiro had his fuzzy arms wrapped around Canada's neck, Canada himself having the daylights scared out of him from just the thought of singing in front of everyone.

How would he react to the attention?

Would he get any attention at all?

Would Russia mistake his soft little voice for a breeze like he had during World War II and sit on him?

Countless questions and worst-case scenarios ran circles through Canada's head, making him dizzy and see stars. The room seemed to shake along with him, almost as if there was an earthquake, and the only thing that kept him anchored to reality was Prussia's gentle, albeit scratchy, voice.

"You can do it, alright? I believe in you." Prussia pulled Canada into his direct line of sight, and he smashed his face in so close that they could practically kiss. Prussia's features conveyed a look of smoldering intensity. Canada shuttered at that. He'd never seen Prussia so serious before.

"I don't believe in myself, you know," Canada told him, something he'd told Prussia many, many times before.

"Well, if you don't believe in yourself, I'll make it up by believing in you extra hard." Prussia's words caused for Canada to stop shaking. Instead, he straightened his back, his joints as stiff as a wooden soldier's, and Prussia brought his hands up to Canada face in order to straighten his glasses that Canada didn't realize were crooked.

Then, to Canada's complete and utter shock, Prussia gingerly kissed a lone tear that had been falling down his cheek, and Prussia said to him, "It's for good luck." Prussia leaned in, his lips barely hovering above Canada's ear, and he quietly whistled the words, "Ich liebe dich."

"What does that mean?" Canada asked.

"I means 'I love you'."

A moment of silence, then Prussia spoke again. "Ready?"

"Guess so," Canada sighed, the dread in his stomach still sitting there like a cinder block.

"Alright, go gig 'em, tiger!" With an enthusiastic yet careful-not-to-hurt-him slap to Canada's back, Prussia swung open the doors with fire and fury, and he held it wide open so that Canada saw everyone and everyone saw him. Prussia then gave Canada a wide, close-lip smile, and Canada took a deep breath, counted to three, and now he was as fucking ready as he'd ever be.

"Oh, maple," Canada muttered to himself.

Prussia threw him the mike, jammed the cable into one of the loud speakers, and somehow had lit up the entire room with stage lights.

For the first time in his life, Canada had everyone's attention, but for about a minute, all he could do was stand still, his knees in lock, his mind scrambling for something to say, and his heart ready to burst out of his chest.

The sight of Prussia standing there with Gilbird perpetually hovering around him, smiling and holding over his head a gigantic _CANADA IS FUCKING AWESOME_ sign, gave Canada the tiniest boost of confidence, and before he had the chance to react, Prussia grabbed his own microphone and yelled, "DJ, hit it!"

With the electronic beats and heavily auto-tuned notes, Canada could've sworn that he saw Austria flop over and have a heart attack.

And so, Canada took another deep breath, sucked in all the air he could into his stomach, and threw all sense of caution to the wind.

For a moment all the other countries could only watch. Everyone either stared at Canada with eyes the size of golf balls or allowed for their jaws in hang slack, and they all shared in equal parts a sense of confusion and surprise. The ghost in the room who previously sat solemn had suddenly come back to life. Never before had people on such a mass scale notice Canada. In fact, Canada assumed that this was the first time the majority of the people in here had seem him at all.

Canada swallowed the lump in his throat, allowed for Prussia to come to the center of the room with him, and he opened his mouth in order to hum to the song's intro melody at the top of his lungs. It gave Austria another heart attack because the Canadian and the Prussian singing in the middle of the room sounded so horrendous, so awful, so off-key, that it was practically a middle finger to every great musician that had ever existed. Well, Prussia never told Canada that he'd have to be any good at singing, did he?

Their voices combined to produce an air-splitting hodgepodge of tone-deafness as music blasted from the DJ's turntable, and Canada knew that he had everyone hooked.

The plan was for Canada to sing the first portion of the song with Prussia in the background to give him vocal support, and after repeating the lyrics in his head one last time, Canada started his single after the first beat drop.

 _"I know that they always talk aboot America or China's massive GDPs,_

 _Or are panicking when they look at Greece's tanking economy."_

Canada's voice had started off soft and shy, but he gradually gained more and more volume. Having Prussia didn't exactly hinder the loudness of the vocals, either, and holding and swinging Kumajiro around brought him comfort.

 _"And they always mention other countries' large_ _military,_

 _But while you'd find it all nice and dandy,_

 _I'd like you to know,_

 _That you're not alone . . ._

 _Because guess whose military ranks in 25th place?_

 _Guess who has a robust school system that can educate?_

 _Guess who ranks as one of the world's most stable economies?_

 _Guess who doesn't really have any worldwide enemies?_

 _Guess whose nation has a peaceful and accepting atmosphere?_

 _Yeah, hate crimes are the only thing not tolerated here!"_

Canada then stepped back into the harmony so that Prussia could sing his part.

Prussia, rather than standing in one place and only mildly shaking his body like Canada did, ran around the room, tore up desks, flung papers in the air, and even slid on his knees as he busted out singing so loud that it made Canada's ears ring.

 _"Why, IT'S CANADA OF COURSE!_

 _And some of the police officers do, in fact, ride a horse!_

 _You may think that having a beaver as the national animal is lame,_

 _But at least they can upkeep their dams better than America does maintenance on his roads' lanes!"_

"Hey! We're not that bad!" America, with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice amidst the awful music, tried to defend himself. That same awful music, though, drowned out the rest of his sentence.

"Yes, you are that bad!" Prussia screamed at America from the other side of the room. "People rank you infrastructure at a D! A D! That's not awesome! That's abysmal! Your infrastructure sucks!"

America sank back down into his seat, deflated and burned, and Prussia resuming singing his portion of the song.

 _"It's Canada, it's CANADIAN, BIATCH!_

 _And Canada's one of the countries where it's the safest!_

 _They have low gun crime,_

 _And the fact that life expectancy is 82 is more than fine!_

Prussia proceeded to drop to the background once more, and Canada took center stage again.

 _"Also, I just think that poutine's divine!  
_

 _We have moose, and polar bears, and free healthcare,_

 _As well as a multicultural and vibrant flare,_

 _Along with very clean water and air!_

 _But not to be outdone,_

 _Canada has massive stores of natural gas and petroleum!_

 _We're the world's fifth largest oil producer!_

 _And when it comes to the battlefield don't call Canada a loser!_

 _Cause while people counted a lot of Canadian troops as British during World War II,_

 _That doesn't mean we didn't contribute!_

 _We have maple syrup and pancakes as well as French cuisine,_

 _Plus, technically, Britain's reigning monarch is still our queen,_

 _And many of you countries might think you guys are progressive,_

 _However, Canada was fourth in the world to legalize gay marriage!_

 _Sure, America approved it in all fifty states,_

 _But in Canada, it'd been that way for a decade!"_

Canada paused, readying himself for the ending, and both he and Prussia were now in the middle of the room, all eyes on them, the two of them more than ready to blast the final segment into outer space.

Canada's heart pounded against his rib-cage, not from fear but from excitement. For just a second, Canada's confidence swelled to a quarter of Prussia's ego, and it was a second enough. Tears of happiness threatened to fall, and he looked at Prussia, his precious, precious Prussia who had convinced him to do this.

After mouthing to Prussia a thank-you, Canada allowed himself to savor his moment.

With that, they moved onto the last stretch of the song, Canada and Prussia dancing as if their lives depended on it, and Kumajiro happily joined in after releasing himself from Canada's hold. This last part excited Canada in particular because he and Prussia would get to sing it together.

 _"So as you can see,_

 _Canada's not that weak,_

 _And let's not forget the while we're not always remembered,_

 _Tell me if someone truly hates Canada among these UN members!_

 _Sure, people say we're all about maple syrup and peace,_

 _But it's better than going around creating conflicts with other countries!_

 _People think we're wimps because our stereotype is being polite,_

 _And while from you that's awfully nice,_

 _I think you're just jealous because we'll absolutely DESTROY YOU ON THE ICE!_

 _To anyone who's ever called Canada forgettable or lame,_

 _Have you ever been to one of our hockey games?!_

 _Not to mention, we'll be more than happy to let you know . . ._

 _YEAH, WE'RE AWESOME, AND WE KNOW IT!_

 _CANADA'S GREAT!_

 _WE BET YOU WISH YOU COULD LIVE HERE ALL DAY!_

 _CANADA'S AWESOME IN ITS OWN, SPECIAL WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!_

 _YEAH, CANADA'S AWESOME, AND WE KNOW IT!_

 _YEAH, WE'RE SOMETIMES FORGOTTEN, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOW IT!_

 _BUT WE THINK THAT LIFE IS PRETTY GOOD HERE,_

 _SO LET'S GIVE CANADA A WELL-DESERVED CHEER,_

 _CANADA'S AWESOME, AND WE KNOW IT!_

 _CANADA'S AWESOME, AND WE KNOW IT,_

 _CANADA'S AWESOME, AND WE KNOW IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!_

 _YEAH, DON'T HATE, BUT WE THINK THAT WE'RE PRETTY GREAT!"_

Make sure to hold out your last notes the longest, confetti canon, mike drop, and done.

Canada and Prussia, panting and out of breath, stood proudly as Prussia turned on a giant projection of the Canadian flag, and the entire room erupted into ear-shattering applause as confetti poured from the ceiling like rain.

Countries were jumping; Italy cried tears of amazement at such an artwork; America just cried because he needed ice for Canada and Prussia's burns; Germany even clapped; Austria looked to be on the brink of cardiac arrest; Cuba didn't mistake Canada for America for once; Britain and France smiled fondly.

Canada grinned from ear to ear, the smile reaching his eyes this time. This time, they noticed him. China even threw him a pork bun, telling him that he needed to regain the energy lost from such a performance.

It didn't matter, though. None of it did, but in a good way. It didn't matter because Canada had Prussia, who after the duet lifted Canada into the air and loudly and proudly exclaimed, "I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY TO FORGET HIM NOW! CAN CANADA GET AN AMEN, GUYS? BECAUSE THIS LOVELY LAD FUCKING DESERVES IT!"

Amens and prayers and cheers and claps and congratulations and whistles and hooting and hollers filled the room like smoke.

While perched on his shoulder, Canada leaned down to kiss a very, very receptive Prussia right on the lips, and Canada threw his arms up into the air and joined the massive standing ovation, happy that he was no longer a mere ghost.

Yeah, this was only a baby step. Everyone except for Prussia would probably forget him tomorrow, and Canada still had his depressed days, and he still needed help for his issues that friendship - Prussia - alone couldn't fix. But, he could smile brighter. He felt lighter. And for one moment, one glorious moment, the sun was shining, and they were tears of joy, not sadness, he was crying, and it was a fine, a mighty fine day, a bright, rosy day he was having.


End file.
